


Broken Dreams

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Series: Of Walls and Nerds [25]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bittersweet, Domesticity, Fluffy Domesticity, Important Conversations, M/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 07:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: In the aftermath of Ardyn's visit Gladio rushes home to Ignis, and they decide on what steps they need to take to protect themselves and everyone else.





	Broken Dreams

Gladio unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside. He needed Iggy, he needed a shower, and then he needed to address the roiling mess of thoughts in his head. Gladio was good at compartmentalising, at pushing his thoughts and feelings down and away, but they always boiled over eventually, one way or another.

The chill blade of a dagger stroked his throat, close enough for him to know just how sharp it was. He could feel the stubble on his neck catch against the blade.

He froze, letting go of his bag very carefully, the sound of it dropping to the floor and the settling material being the only noise in the room. “Iggy,” he said, not wanting to swallow in case he received an inadvertent shave in the process, “it's me.”

“Where was the first place I kissed you?” Ignis asked, his arm locked in place, the dagger unmoving. Gladio risked a look to the side, where Ignis stood. He held his other dagger in his other hand, ready for a fight, and his expression was stone cold and serious.

“On my mouth,” Gladio answered, his mind racing for details he could provide to prove he was himself, “in my bedroom. I'd been hitting on you for weeks. You nearly ran.”

Gladio felt the dagger withdraw from against his skin before it disappeared in a flash of blue. “I'm sorry,” Ignis said, immediately moving in closer and resting his hand against Gladio's cheek. He wasn't wearing his gloves, and his hands were cool against Gladio's face. “When I got your message...” he began.

Gladio enveloped Ignis in his arms and pulled him close, smelling the gel in his hair, and feeling the breadth of his shoulders in his embrace. “I know,” he said.

“I knew it had to have been him,” Ignis said, his fingers going to the back of Gladio's neck and holding him closer as Gladio bowed over Ignis, enveloping him in safety, and warmth. “But if it was him, I had no guarantee he hadn't done something to you and taken your phone.”

“I know,” Gladio repeated, closing his eyes at the tremor of fear he could detect in Ignis's voice. “It's okay, I'd rather you checked.”

Ignis sighed, and for a moment he fell still as Gladio stroked his fingers through the back of Ignis's hair and held Ignis to himself. Then he pulled away, only a fraction. “You didn't check I'm really me,” he said, his tone turning to scolding.

Gladio grinned, looking down at him. “Iggy, you had a dagger at my throat. Only you would do that.”

“I suppose,” Ignis conceded, after a second's thought. When he pulled away a moment later it was with obvious reluctance. “You need to tell me what happened,” he said.

Gladio frowned. He didn't want to tell Ignis, he wanted to shield him from it, even if it meant his every reunion with him from now until the end of days involved a very close shave, but he had to rely on Ignis to be able to protect himself from some things, and that meant he had to tell him about them. At the same time, he had some pressing questions for Ignis, too. “Can I shower first?” he asked. “And get something to eat? I'm starving.”

“Had your fill of Malboro soup?” Ignis asked, with a teasing smile that shot straight to Gladio's heart, and spread soft affection across his own face. “Iris helped me make a Behemoth stew, if you'd like some,” he offered, adding the caveat, “it's not up to my previous standard, but it's palatable enough.”

Gladio gave a small huff of amusement. Iggy's previous standard made lifelong restaurateurs in Altissia tremble before him. “Iggy, you can make cup noodles into gourmet food,” he answered, “I'd love some stew.”

“Your palate was ruined by those,” Ignis countered, but Gladio saw the small twitch of a flattered smile at the corner of his mouth. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ignis's temple before he let him go.

“I'm only ever gonna say this once,” Gladio told him, letting his hand slide down Ignis's back until it rested just over his waistband. He wanted to move lower, but he needed a shower, and they did need to talk. There'd be plenty of time for the rest later. “The stuff you make is better than cup noodles.”

“I'm going to remind you of that when this is all over,” Ignis replied, his face turning to follow Gladio as Gladio finally let his hand fall away, and he started towards the bathroom. “Especially when it comes to setting the menu for the wedding reception.”

“What if I want a cup noodle themed wedding?” Gladio shot back, keeping his chuckle down even though he expected that Ignis could hear his grin within his taunting. He stepped through the doorway, leaving it as his parting shot.

“Then I'd have to find a way to divorce you before we even got married!” Ignis's voice soared, loud and clear enough to be heard from another room, and Gladio's only answer was a cackle of laughter. He didn't need to stick his head back into the living space of their tiny apartment to see Ignis's shaken head; Ignis could project a shake of his head through walls with nothing more than the tone of his silence.

When Gladio exited the shower, hair still dripping down his back and soaking into the shirt he'd pulled on, the tiny apartment smelled of roasted meat, and gravy, and vegetables. It made his mouth water, and he paused in the doorway to take a deep sniff, and memorise the scene. There was Ignis, his shaded glasses folded away on the counter, his back to the room. Gladio could see the smile that pulled at his cheek, and the bump in the line of his nose, and the slight way his upper lip protruded thanks to his tiny overbite. Steam was billowing from the pan he was stirring, and his strong shoulders and chest led down to a slender waist and the pertest ass Gladio had ever got his hands on.

“It's ready,” Ignis said, “if you're done staring.”

This moment, this perfect, domestic moment, was all Gladio wanted for the rest of his life. To be safe, and home, and happy, with Ignis at the stove wearing that smile on his face. “Can't blame a guy for staring,” he defended, sidling in behind Ignis and coiling his arms around his chest to tug him in close. Ignis didn't resist, letting himself be tugged back against Gladio's chest. “It smells great,” Gladio added.

“Not bad,” Ignis agreed, “even if I do say so myself.” He turned his head a fraction, so that he was addressing Gladio instead of the pan, “Sadly, rosemary is now officially endangered, so I couldn't use any.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells, it doesn't need it,” Gladio answered, and kissed Iggy's hair. He released him, going to fetch a couple of bowls and letting Ignis dish up while he grabbed cutlery. They ate at the table, which was tiny, and square, one side of it pressed up against the back of the sofa and creating a boundary where the kitchen became the living room. It was only just big enough for two even though they sometimes squeezed three around it, with mismatched chairs, and their knees knocking together under it as they ate. The food was good, but the company was better, with Ignis hiding his smile at Gladio's appreciative groans.

When Gladio had finished his bowl, his stomach heavy with the comfortable warmth of a good meal inside it, he took both of their dishes and set to washing up. He scrubbed the bowls, and rinsed the soap off because Iggy always told him it affected the flavour of things if he didn't even though _he_ couldn't tell the difference, and then left everything to dry on the rack while he made his way to their little sofa.

Ignis was seated with his elbows on his knees, his eyes closed and his head hanging down. Gladio got the impression he was looking at the thoughts inside his own head. He sat more upright when Gladio approached, and there was a sadness and a tension in his posture that had been absent at the table. “I was in Pitioss Ruins,” he confirmed, turning his face towards Gladio even though he couldn't see him. “They're by the Rock of Ravotogh, and only accessible by airship.”

Gladio swallowed, and slowly sat himself down on the edge of the sofa, his knees turned towards Ignis. “What did you find?” he asked.

Ignis opened his mouth, and then shook his head. The sigh he gave was short and frustrated. “I'm not entirely sure, yet,” he admitted. “I need something to compare it to.”

Gladio found himself nodding. “What did you _want_ to find?” he asked, after a moment.

Ignis turned his head fractionally, towards Gladio, and then turned away again. “What the scourge is, and how it can be defeated,” he intoned, softly. “What Ardyn is, where Noct is,” he added, “how long we have to survive like this. Anything I can.”

Gladio gave a small huff that would have, at another time, in another place, been a laugh. “Sounds like you're looking for hope,” he said.

Ignis's shoulders sagged. “I suppose I am,” he said. “Noct is the Chosen King, fated to restore the Light, but nothing anywhere says how.” He bowed his head, and added, quietly, “I wore the ring, Gladio, I fought Ardyn with it on that altar. It wasn't enough. What if it isn't enough?”

Gladio closed his eyes as Ignis finally admitted to what had happened in Altissia. He'd known Ignis had worn the ring, he'd always known that, but he still wished he could have heard it from Ignis before Ardyn. He slipped his hand across Ignis's back, moving in to hold him. “Noct has the Astrals on his side, remember?” he pointed out, “And us.”

Ignis shook his head. “We need to be prepared, Gladio,” he said, “we need to know everything we can about the threats to the world, or Noct will come back and there will be no one left.” Gladio squeezed his arm around Ignis a little tighter. “I can't be a shield against the darkness if I don't know how to fight it,” he said.

“Hey,” Gladio said, reaching out to tuck his fingers under Ignis's chin and turn him towards him, “you're doing just great so far.”

Ignis moved with Gladio's fingers, letting Gladio turn his face, and then tugged his chin away with a small sigh. “What did Ardyn say?” he asked.

Gladio frowned and settled himself back against the sofa, keeping his hand on Iggy's back as he did. “A lot of crap,” he said. “He was trying to get into my head,” he scowled, not wanting to admit that Ardyn nearly had, “he said he could show up to you, looking like me, and you wouldn't know.”

“I'd know,” Ignis said.

Gladio shook his head. He wanted to believe that, and if Ardyn came up to Ignis on a day like today, he did believe it. If only every day could be like today. “He picks his moment, Iggy. He's watching us. He knew you were away, and out of range, and that I didn't know where, and he showed up looking like you.” Gladio closed his eyes, not wanting to let his brain run down the track of what might have happened had he never realised, what he might have said, or done, how vulnerable he would have been. “If I hadn't taken him by surprise it might have ended a lot worse.”

“He chooses the person we'll be most vulnerable to,” Ignis said, after a long, considered silence.

Gladio swallowed over a growing lump in his throat. “Did he really show up looking like me, in Altissia?” he asked.

Ignis set his shoulders back, and looked up towards the ceiling, or his memories. Gladio watched the shift of his back, and the way his hair moved against his collar. “The High Commander saw through him immediately,” he said, after a moment.

“You didn't,” Gladio said. It wasn't a question.

“I--” Ignis began.

“I'm not criticising, Iggy,” Gladio interrupted. “It just scares me. Like I said, he picks his moment. When we're most vulnerable, when we most need each other, he shows up pretending to be the person we most want to see.”

Ignis turned towards him, and Gladio caught the faint smile playing at the corner of Iggy's mouth, even though it didn't quite reach his eyes. “It'll take more than appearances to fool me.”

Gladio gave Ignis a wan smile of his own, sitting forward and removing his hand from Iggy's back as he did. “And if you're in the depths of some ruin surrounded by daemons with no way out and he shows up then? Or if you're expecting me, and I get delayed and can't get through, and he turns up instead?”

Ignis murmured unhappily. “We'll have to make each other prove their identity each time we meet,” he said, “as we did today.”

“That's a hell of a way to live,” Gladio grumbled. Ignis turned his head towards him, opening his mouth to say something, and then he turned away again. “What?” Gladio asked.

It took Ignis a moment to answer, and when he did it was subdued, and unhappy. “He's using us against each other, and to that end against Noct. We always swore we wouldn't let this happen.”

Gladio slid himself to the edge of the sofa, reaching out to take Ignis's hand. “If it wasn't you it'd be Iris, or Cor. He'd find some way in.”

“I doubt he'd find Cor emotionally vulnerable if he showed up looking like you to him,” Ignis replied, with a trace of despairing amusement, “aggravated, perhaps, but not vulnerable.”

“But Iris--”

“Wouldn't be the same,” Ignis said. His head bowed, so that if he could see he'd be looking at Gladio's hand atop his own. “Iris is dear to you, but she's not the same as either of us are to Noct, and Noct is his true target.”

Gladio squeezed Iggy's hand. He had a point, as much as Gladio didn't want to admit it. Iris loved Noct, and sometimes he wondered if she didn't love Noct a bit more than she loved her own brother, but that sentiment wasn't returned. It was small comfort to think that she might be a little safer for that. “So we stick together, and I'll make sure you're definitely you,” he concluded.

Ignis pursed his lips and slid his other hand over the top of Gladio's. “Or,” he said.

Gladio waited, but no explanation seemed forthcoming. “Or?” he asked.

“If we were no longer together,” Ignis began, each word coming out halting and hesitant.

“Like hell, Iggy,” Gladio replied, his voice firm, and he squeezed the hand he was holding. “I ain't losing you now.”

“If he's intent on using me against you,” Ignis pressed, the pain showing on his face.

“You think I'm going to love you any less if you ditch me now, for that?” Gladio asked, trying to keep a lid on his rising anger. He wanted to go back and find Ardyn and punch him a few more times for making them have this conversation. “You think I'm not gonna run straight into his arms if he shows up as you and says he made a terrible mistake? _Think_ , Iggy. Us splitting up would be a terrible plan.”

Ignis frowned, and Gladio could see his brows knotting. “How closely do you think he's watching us?” he asked, turning his face towards Gladio so that Gladio could see his milky open eye, and the ruined scars of his other.

“What?” Gladio asked, his mind still reeling, and his heart doing unpleasant somersaults in his chest.

“How much did he know?” Ignis asked, holding Gladio in that blind gaze. “Did he know we live together here? How realistic was his parody of me?” The questions didn't sound rhetorical; Ignis was asking genuinely, following some line of thought.

Gladio found himself struggling to keep his brain turning in the directions of Iggy's own. He shook his head, trying to remember exactly what that bastard had said. “He said he'd had suspicions,” he said, eventually, “until he met you in Altissia, but I caught him off guard when I kissed you,” he added, and then changed it to, “him. I thought it was you.”

“You kissed him?” Ignis asked, seeming affronted by that information.

Gladio's upper lip curled involuntarily. “Iggy, believe me, there ain't enough mouthwash in the world,” Gladio intoned, trying not to think about it too much. He saw the faint flicker of a smile at the corner of Iggy's mouth, however, and this time the flash of amusement did reach his eyes.

“If it caught him off guard,” he said, sounding as if he was giving voice to his thoughts as they were coming to him, “he can't have been observing our relationship that closely.”

Gladio watched him, watched him worry at the inside of his lip with his teeth, watched the way his eyebrows drew together just fractionally. “I can see your cogs whirring, Iggy.”

“He knew I was at Ravotogh?” Ignis asked.

“Yeah,” Gladio said, “and that I'm away a lot, and that you're looking in tombs and ruins.” It was too much, way too much for that bastard to know.

“Then,” Ignis paused, his lips pursing before he pressed onwards, “he doesn't have eyes inside Lestallum. He's not as well informed as he wants us to think.”

“So he can't use us against each other?” Gladio asked, hope starting to bloom.

Ignis shook his head, but it wasn't to confirm the negative. “Now he knows, he certainly can,” he said. “Unless he thinks we are no longer together.”

Gladio felt his heart do an unpleasant flip and his throat tighten up. “I'm not splitting up, Iggy,” he reaffirmed. He'd fight tooth and nail to keep Iggy, after everything they'd been through together. He wasn't letting Ardyn take it all away now.

Ignis shook his head. “I'm not saying we have to,” he said, turning to Gladio again and giving him an apologetic look, “but if we act as if we have,” he explained, “he'll have no reason to think such will work.” He paused, inhaling through his nose, and added, “And if he does parade as one of us to the other, we'll know instantly.”

Gladio mulled the suggestion over, taking in its implications. “An act?”

Ignis gave a small nod. “A charade,” he agreed.

Gladio thought about it. He'd still be with Iggy, but he'd have to pretend he wasn't, that he didn't value Iggy more than anything else in the world right now. If someone tried to make him choose between Iggy and Iris he'd go for Iris in a heartbeat, but only because he knew Iggy would never forgive him if he didn't. “I can do that,” he decided.

Ignis shifted his hands, gripping Gladio's and squeezing. “It would have to be convincing to everyone, Gladio,” he warned. “Iris, Prompto, Cor, Aranea,” he listed, with a nod, “those that know us best, lest _he_ pretend to be one of them and learn otherwise.”

Gladio was silent. The idea of pretending to everyone else, some of whom knew how much they loved each other, that for some reason they'd fallen out, or decided not to be together any more went against every honest bone in Gladio's body. He didn't even know if he'd be able to set up that sort of charade, let alone maintain it. It'd be like going back to before everyone knew, but worse, because now they'd think it hadn't worked.

“We lived that way for years, if you recall,” said, softly, in response to Gladio's silence.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered, dully, “and it sucked.”

Ignis gave him a weak smile. “If it will keep you a little safer...” he said, and he didn't have to finish the sentence. The words hung unspoken in the air between them, pricking at Gladio's heart.

“I know,” he said. “I know. I just....” he took a breath, thinking through all that the act would involve. More forced distance between them, more time apart, and when he saw Iggy after being away, he wouldn't be able to run up to him for a hug, or a kiss. He'd have to bite it back, pretend he was mostly indifferent; just a man seeing an old friend he hasn't seen in a while, at best, or a guy seeing an ex where he doesn't want to at worst. “Do I have to move out?” he asked.

Ignis took a deep breath, the reluctance obvious on his face. “It may be best if I do,” he said, “at least temporarily, to sell the illusion. We could resume cohabiting in time,” he added, with a slight strain in his voice that tugged at Gladio's gut, “if we act as if we've reconciled as friends. I'm sure Prompto would house me for now,” he added, a weak smile gracing his face, “if only for the food.”

Gladio felt a horrible lump in his throat and shuffled closer, sliding his hand to the back of Ignis's neck. “I don't...” he tried, and failed as the lump in his throat got the better of him. “Iggy?” It was a plea, a plea to come up with something better, something easier to live with.

Ignis took a calming breath, and Gladio could see him pulling himself together. “We're merely turning to a life of clandestine meetings,” he said. Gladio watched his lips part as he found the words to frame around a thought. “Should anyone ask,” he added, quietly, “tell them we argued. That I wanted you to meet other people.” He swallowed, his head bowing a little, and Gladio watched a quiet distress that must have been bottled inside for weeks leak to the surface. “The idea that you could go out there and be killed, and the last tenderness you knew in the world was months before, when last we met pains me, Gladio. Tell them we argued about that. That I stood firm.”

Gladio laced his fingers with Ignis's. “I'm always gonna come back, Iggy,” he promised.

Ignis gave a small, sad nod. “And I trust you to,” he said. “But if I were a better man, it's what I'd be telling you.”

Gladio felt the pain of Iggy's fear crackle down his spine. He knew what he meant, he really did. He was at such risk of dying, out there on a hunt, on the claws of some daemon, and Ignis would be off in some ruin, or safely at home on this very sofa, never knowing what had happened, and waiting for Gladio to return. It had played on his mind too. Knowing he couldn't leave Iggy like that had always kept him coming back. “Ignis,” he said. It was all he said.

Ignis shook his head. “I know you wouldn't go,” he said, “and that it wouldn't keep you safer if you did, but if pretending I've given in to them can where actually doing it will not,” he paused, and breathed, shakily, “then it's what I shall do.”

Gladio sighed, and gave in to his desperate urge to pull Ignis close and hold him tight. “So I'm gonna have to sneak you into my tent, or my room, like we're teenagers avoiding my dad?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little, but not feeling as if he was having much success.

It earned him a small smile from Ignis anyway as Ignis settled in to his side. “With much higher stakes,” he agreed, “but yes.”

Gladio gave a nod, and bent down to press a kiss to Ignis's hair. “Iggy?” he asked.

“Yes?” Ignis replied, turning his head slightly so that his cheek was against Gladio's shoulder.

Gladio looked down at him and bit his lip. “Can we have a few more nights together first?”

He waited, his breath held for Ignis's answer. When Ignis did, he squeezed Gladio's hand first.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that has been reading this series, and keeping up with it. Hello to the new readers, too, there have been a couple of you, and I hope you enjoy this installment.
> 
> As always, my greatest thanks goes to my little cadre of Gladnis Girls, and every one that comments or has commented, and every single one of you that leaves kudos. It all means so much to me. Thank you.


End file.
